The elevator dinged, shooting a jolt of anxiety through my veins. “Alex? I gotta go, Connor’s here.”
“Does he need a place to stay this weekend?”
“No, he kept his apartment in Saratoga in case I wanted to come back.” I smiled at how well they both knew me, even when I was in denial. “See you in three hours?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
I hung up and called out that I’d be right there, planning to leave a note for the housekeeper about Jurisprudence’s meal times … but as I turned the corner, my stomach dropped.
My father stood in the kitchen, reaching into the Sub-Zero fridge.
I froze. “What are you doing here?”
He straightened quickly, slamming the fridge shut with a guilty expression before crossing his arms defensively. “I live here.”
“Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve been gone for days.”
“Personal leave,” he said, lifting an imperious brow. Even now, he was going to shut me out?
“Where have you been?”
“You’re a guest in my house, stop interrogating me,” he growled, his voice edged with irritation. He leaned against the marble counter, as if positioning himself between me and my escape. “It’s three in the afternoon, why aren’t you at work?”
“Personal leave.” If he could shut me out, I could do the same. I reached for my suitcase, gripping the handle tighter than necessary.
His eyes flicked to the bag, his expression tightening. “You can’t just leave.”
“Watch me,” I said. “Or start talking.”
Our eyes locked, tension thickening the air between us. Once, I’d trusted him more than anybody. When had we become adversaries instead of allies?
I licked my lips. “I know you’re used to doing whatever you want behind Richard’s back, but he left me in charge. Now you report to me. I’ve spent the past two days dealing with PR and legal while my COO was noticeably absent. Now I’m leaving.” I gripped my suitcase handle, concealing the wince of my sore palm. “If you want me to come back, start talking.”
His jaw flexed, fingers tapping against the countertop. I saw the exact moment he realized I wasn’t bluffing and threw up his hands. “I tracked down proof of your little fight with Spencer. I’m trying to clear your name.” Another glance at my suitcase. “Which will be a lot harder if you’re not here.”
I exhaled sharply, running a hand over my jaw. Whatever proof he had would show that Spencer attacked me and I reacted in self-defense. Dad was right, I should stay and deal with this.
Except he wouldn’t have left the city for that. Where had he gone?
“The media will figure out who you learned those self-defense moves from.” Dad’s lips pressed into a thin line, and my fingers curled around the suitcase to keep my hands from shaking. “You needed to end things with him. He was a loose end you needed to cut. So I went upstate to neutralize the situation and I—”
“That’s where you were?” My voice cracked, raw with disbelief. He had gone behind my back. This wasn’t business, it was personal.
The tears burned at the edges of my vision, but I didn’t blink them back. I let them fuel my rage. “Thirteen years ago you let me marry a goddamn narcissist who destroyed my life—who’s still a fucking menace, who attacked me in my workplace right before you stormed out. You didn’t step inanyof those times. You enable him to keep hurting me, even though he’s a lying, cheating piece of shit.” I threw up my hands in frustration. “But I find a man who loves me, who truly adores me for who I am … andnowyou intervene?”
“Keep your voice down, Victoria,” he scolded.
“No, I won’t keep my voice down! I’m so fucking tired of you telling me how to talk, how to fuckingfeel.Or how tonotfeel anything, even happiness. God forbid I’m happy.” I wiped the tears off my cheeks, but now that the dam had burst, I couldn’t stop crying. “I tried it your way and I’m fucking miserable, Dad. I can’t do this anymore, not without him.”
Dad’s mouth dropped open in shock before he blew out a long, agonized breath. He reached into the fridge and pulled out a bag from my favorite Saratoga Springs diner.
“Apparently I’m the world’s best paid Uber Eats driver,” he said dryly, and I took the bag cautiously. “And he gave me very strict instructions to do this.”
He pulled a torn-up check from his pocket and threw it in the air like confetti. Then he handed me the receipt, covered in Cruz’s rough handwriting:Your dad’s bribe is in the wrong currency.
My face flushed as I ran my thumb affectionately over the familiar strokes. After I ghosted him, bitterness could have seeped in … but he was still so beautifully, wonderfully,crudelyhimself.
I met Dad’s embarrassed eyes. “You don’t want to know.”
